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sga_flashficTitle: Too Important to Lose
Length: Less than 1000 words
Tag for Tao of Rodney
Rating: IT for implied togetherness, McShep implied
Not mine, don't own it, or the other pop culture references. :)
Summary: Really, these people didn’t even try to understand the impossible anymore. Rodney-centric
It wasn’t the loss of his newfound abilities that hurt him the most, Rodney decided, late one night. The telekinesis had certainly been cool. The telepathy got a bit annoying, but the ability to invent new math… that was something that he really missed.
Most of all, as he sat looking down at his hands, he missed himself.
His idea, to reverse the mutations using a previously garnered pattern, that had really only done half the job. The machine worked, but it wasn’t for resurrection. He was dead, flatlined, and miraculously came back once everything was reversed.
Really, these people didn’t even try to understand the impossible anymore. He would have been returned to normal. But still dead.
It wasn’t as though he could see the nanites that infected him simply by looking at his hands, and the fact that they hadn’t shown up on Carson’s scans shouldn’t have surprised him, but he wasn’t too sure he cared for the powers they imparted.
There was no telepathy, no telekinesis, no super-intelligence. They had made him better... but not faster or stronger by any means.
He’d never asked to be the six million dollar man, nor his two million dollar knock-off.
Being an the smartest man in two galaxies had set him apart, but what was he now?
All the damage done to his brain by the seizures was fixed, eradicated without a trace. His hypoglycemia was fixed. His citrus allergy? Apparently also gone, but he didn’t dare eat it, not in case someone noticed.
It was like the onboard diagnostics for his car back on Earth, he was warned if anything was out of the ordinary and whenever he had a hint of hypochondria, Atlantis told him he was just fine. Just another piece of the city in perfect working order. “More machine now than man,” he murmured, looking out at the sea beyond the edge of the city.
It hurt, the knowledge that he wasn’t what he’d always been. He wasn’t of Earth anymore. He was more Atlantean than John of the uber-ATA gene, than the Elizabeth who'd lived 10,000 years here.
Rodney ran those same hands into his hair, leaving his head in his hands as the hot tears formed in his eyes… it wasn’t right to cry, but at this point, he didn’t think he cared. It wasn’t that he was pissed to be alive, but was this really alive? Was he even Rodney McKay anymore?
Why do you think I have made you any less?
She still hadn’t grasped the idea that he didn’t want to listen at times like this.
It wasn’t as rainy that night as the one that had seen him trapped out in a storm at the business end of a gun, but it was stormy, and the ocean churned with an anger that mirrored his own, nearly reaching his feet where they hung off the pier. “You weren’t supposed to make me anything! I didn’t ask for this!”
I know.
“You weren’t supposed to fix anything! Carson could have done it!” he declared. “And I certainly didn’t want the strings you attached!” The one where he could leave Atlantis… but not forever. Or the one where she spoke in his damned head. Or how she could send text across his optic nerve…
I know.
“’I know,’” he echoed sarcastically. “Then why the hell did you do it?”
The deluge of information nearly deafened him. The gist of it? Atlantis’ probability of survival for the next three months decreased by 70% without him there. Probability of death for his friends… quadrupled. The statistics were staggering.
Finally it ended, the math fading away. Five words replaced them: you’re too important to lose.
“That’s an awful lot to put on a man who destroyed five-sixths of a solar system,” Rodney groused. He released his hair where he’d been nearly pulling it out.
Yet you alone can do what must be done. The others do not yet understand. And if your actions a few days ago are any indication, you are so much more than a destroyer of deserted planets.
And it was true. He'd... He'd been a totally different person when he arrived in Atlantis three years ago, and he still hadn't ceased to change yet. Raindrops mingled with his tears, as he looked up, like the city was up there. “I don’t want this on my head. Why me? Why now?”
There was silence for a few minutes, before there was any response, and he wondered whether he’d broken the city’s subroutines with that. But as they failed to sink into the ocean, he realized she was stalling. Because he was too close to the ocean, to close to being outside her protection, her control.
“McKay!” a familiar voice called out, from further down the pier. “Are you nuts?” Sheppard’s dark hair was now plastered to his head in a way he hadn’t seen since the storm of the century, and he looked beyond concerned. “Why did you leave bed for this?”
Then the response came. Because you’re too important to lose. And because now is when *he* asked.
“Looking for answers,” Rodney replied, certain now that he would have been happier living in ignorance. Because Sheppard had saved him and damned him all at once.
“Was the question ‘what’s the best way to get hypothermia,’ Rodney?” John snapped, finally sliding an arm around Rodney's waist. "You're shivering. Let's get you to Carson."
He would have given him a smug response on how he'd never get sick again, but he didn’t feel much like it. Instead, he let himself be tugged along, back to the Medical Staff and thence to Sheppard's bed. And in the morning, he’d go back to pretending that nothing had changed… that he wasn’t the city’s chosen caretaker… that he was only alive because a city and a man loved him too much to let him go. It was too bad that part of him was already gone.
Length: Less than 1000 words
Tag for Tao of Rodney
Rating: IT for implied togetherness, McShep implied
Not mine, don't own it, or the other pop culture references. :)
Summary: Really, these people didn’t even try to understand the impossible anymore. Rodney-centric
It wasn’t the loss of his newfound abilities that hurt him the most, Rodney decided, late one night. The telekinesis had certainly been cool. The telepathy got a bit annoying, but the ability to invent new math… that was something that he really missed.
Most of all, as he sat looking down at his hands, he missed himself.
His idea, to reverse the mutations using a previously garnered pattern, that had really only done half the job. The machine worked, but it wasn’t for resurrection. He was dead, flatlined, and miraculously came back once everything was reversed.
Really, these people didn’t even try to understand the impossible anymore. He would have been returned to normal. But still dead.
It wasn’t as though he could see the nanites that infected him simply by looking at his hands, and the fact that they hadn’t shown up on Carson’s scans shouldn’t have surprised him, but he wasn’t too sure he cared for the powers they imparted.
There was no telepathy, no telekinesis, no super-intelligence. They had made him better... but not faster or stronger by any means.
He’d never asked to be the six million dollar man, nor his two million dollar knock-off.
Being an the smartest man in two galaxies had set him apart, but what was he now?
All the damage done to his brain by the seizures was fixed, eradicated without a trace. His hypoglycemia was fixed. His citrus allergy? Apparently also gone, but he didn’t dare eat it, not in case someone noticed.
It was like the onboard diagnostics for his car back on Earth, he was warned if anything was out of the ordinary and whenever he had a hint of hypochondria, Atlantis told him he was just fine. Just another piece of the city in perfect working order. “More machine now than man,” he murmured, looking out at the sea beyond the edge of the city.
It hurt, the knowledge that he wasn’t what he’d always been. He wasn’t of Earth anymore. He was more Atlantean than John of the uber-ATA gene, than the Elizabeth who'd lived 10,000 years here.
Rodney ran those same hands into his hair, leaving his head in his hands as the hot tears formed in his eyes… it wasn’t right to cry, but at this point, he didn’t think he cared. It wasn’t that he was pissed to be alive, but was this really alive? Was he even Rodney McKay anymore?
Why do you think I have made you any less?
She still hadn’t grasped the idea that he didn’t want to listen at times like this.
It wasn’t as rainy that night as the one that had seen him trapped out in a storm at the business end of a gun, but it was stormy, and the ocean churned with an anger that mirrored his own, nearly reaching his feet where they hung off the pier. “You weren’t supposed to make me anything! I didn’t ask for this!”
I know.
“You weren’t supposed to fix anything! Carson could have done it!” he declared. “And I certainly didn’t want the strings you attached!” The one where he could leave Atlantis… but not forever. Or the one where she spoke in his damned head. Or how she could send text across his optic nerve…
I know.
“’I know,’” he echoed sarcastically. “Then why the hell did you do it?”
The deluge of information nearly deafened him. The gist of it? Atlantis’ probability of survival for the next three months decreased by 70% without him there. Probability of death for his friends… quadrupled. The statistics were staggering.
Finally it ended, the math fading away. Five words replaced them: you’re too important to lose.
“That’s an awful lot to put on a man who destroyed five-sixths of a solar system,” Rodney groused. He released his hair where he’d been nearly pulling it out.
Yet you alone can do what must be done. The others do not yet understand. And if your actions a few days ago are any indication, you are so much more than a destroyer of deserted planets.
And it was true. He'd... He'd been a totally different person when he arrived in Atlantis three years ago, and he still hadn't ceased to change yet. Raindrops mingled with his tears, as he looked up, like the city was up there. “I don’t want this on my head. Why me? Why now?”
There was silence for a few minutes, before there was any response, and he wondered whether he’d broken the city’s subroutines with that. But as they failed to sink into the ocean, he realized she was stalling. Because he was too close to the ocean, to close to being outside her protection, her control.
“McKay!” a familiar voice called out, from further down the pier. “Are you nuts?” Sheppard’s dark hair was now plastered to his head in a way he hadn’t seen since the storm of the century, and he looked beyond concerned. “Why did you leave bed for this?”
Then the response came. Because you’re too important to lose. And because now is when *he* asked.
“Looking for answers,” Rodney replied, certain now that he would have been happier living in ignorance. Because Sheppard had saved him and damned him all at once.
“Was the question ‘what’s the best way to get hypothermia,’ Rodney?” John snapped, finally sliding an arm around Rodney's waist. "You're shivering. Let's get you to Carson."
He would have given him a smug response on how he'd never get sick again, but he didn’t feel much like it. Instead, he let himself be tugged along, back to the Medical Staff and thence to Sheppard's bed. And in the morning, he’d go back to pretending that nothing had changed… that he wasn’t the city’s chosen caretaker… that he was only alive because a city and a man loved him too much to let him go. It was too bad that part of him was already gone.
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Date: 2007-08-20 04:30 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-20 01:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-20 09:54 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-20 01:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-20 10:43 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-20 01:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-20 12:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-20 01:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-20 01:00 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-20 01:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2007-08-21 03:14 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-22 10:53 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-23 12:15 am (UTC)I think if the city is sentient... she knows which side her bread is buttered on. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-24 01:40 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-24 01:49 pm (UTC)Yeah... I make my characters angst. I'm good at that. Now I've just got to make it all better in a sequel... :)